


Imaginary Lover

by Angstqueen



Series: Star Crossed [1]
Category: Andromeda
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Episode Related, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstqueen/pseuds/Angstqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan knows Tyr is lost to him. So why then does he feel like he's not quite alone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imaginary Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Note #1: Originally published in the zine "Turn Back The Night" under the pen name McKenzie Griffin.
> 
> Note #2: This story takes place after the Season 2 finale, "The Tunnel at the End of the Light," and was written prior to the Season 3 premiere. My thanks to Starmaid333 who was my co-conspirator for the idea and helped me bring it to life!

 

 

Captain Dylan Hunt figured he now knew what the face of madness looked like. He saw it when he looked in the mirror each morning, glaring back at him with sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks.

Six weeks. It had now been six weeks since Beka and Tyr had disappeared from the bridge of the heavily damaged _Eureka Maru_ , after successfully launching the bomb that had closed the dimensional tunnel.

And every day of those six weeks, Dylan had regretted sending the _Maru_ on its mission.

"I had no choice."

"Pardon me, Dylan?" The holographic avatar of the _Andromeda Ascendant_ appeared, frowning.

With a start, Hunt realized he'd said the words aloud. Shaking his head with a sigh, he said, "Nothing, Rommie. I'm just… thinking out loud."

"Are you all right?" she asked, unwilling to leave him just yet.

"I'm fine, Rommie!" he snapped. "If I want your help, I'll ask, okay?"

"Understood." Her image flickered out.

In the early days after the battle, Dylan would have been annoyed at her interference. Now, he just felt numb. He knew he was displaying almost textbook symptoms of depression, but he couldn't summon the strength to care.

The door to his quarters slid shut with a hushed whoosh of air, and Hunt breathed a sigh of relief. Another day gone. And yet, the reality was no easier to grasp than it had been the day it happened.

Only the _Maru_ had returned, on autopilot and burning. He'd had to have Rommie vent the airlock in order to extinguish the flames.

And when he'd finally pried open the doors, the only sounds had been the creaking of overstressed metal. A thorough search of the ship had yielded the stark, horrifying truth. Beka and Tyr were gone, no doubt sucked into the coldness of space through a hull breach.

Lost in the cataclysm unleashed by the Nova bomb **he'd** told Harper to build and sent them to launch in a desperate bid to seal the dimensional tunnel.

They'd succeeded. Brilliantly.

In an unwinable battle against overwhelming numbers, Beka Valentine and Tyr Anasazi had turned the tide. Their bravery and dedication made them the first proclaimed heroes of the New Commonwealth they'd helped create.

Word spread quickly among the member worlds, and in the first few days and weeks, _Andromeda's_ communications channels were flooded with messages of support and condolences. Words of gratitude and promises to again send representatives for a new Ratification ceremony were also included.

There were also couriers and messages from many of the worlds who'd originally refused membership in the fledgling Commonwealth. After seeing the images of the battle, most of them had reconsidered their initial decision.

It appeared the New Commonwealth was well on its way at last.

Still, the knowledge gave cold comfort in the face of personal loss, and Dylan wasn't sure the win was worth the price.

Pulling off his clothes, he set them in a pile on a nearby chair, then climbed into bed. This was the part of the day he hated the most. Since the battle, sleep had become his enemy, one he fought vigorously against.

For in sleep came dreams. Nightmares, really, where Beka and Tyr stared at him with accusing eyes as their death screams echoed in his mind. During the day, he was able to hold them at bay, filling his time with the business of running his ship. But nights were the hardest. He often woke in a cold sweat, trembling from the horror of visions too vivid to forget, hearing their recriminations damning him.

But even worse were the other dreams. The ones where he and Tyr were together, as they had been before… before he'd disappeared.

Rolling over on to his side, Dylan grabbed the pillow Tyr usually used when he slept here. Pulling it close, he inhaled deeply, still able to faintly detect his lover's scent.

He knew he and Tyr were an unlikely pair. Both strong alphas, it should have made becoming lovers an impossible feat, with neither one willing to submit to the other. But that hadn't happened. Tyr had actually been the one to initiate the relationship, indicating his willingness to be subordinate to his lover.

Not that the Nietzschean was passive in bed. Far from it, in fact. Dylan shivered, recalling the times, he'd readily submitted to Tyr's passion. And it seemed that happened more and more often in his dreams during the past six weeks.

Those were the dreams that made him want to abandon reality and remain in his sleep-conjured world, safe and loved and not alone.

He hugged the pillow closer, blinking back tears of grief. For the second time in his life, he'd found someone who completed him in all ways, and had had that love ripped away after far too short a time.

A part of him wanted to give up on life. After all, he'd accomplished his goal. The Commonwealth was well on the way to being re-established. A Triumvir had been chosen, and steps were being taken to prepare for the invading Magog Worldship.

But Dylan Hunt was a survivor. And he also knew that wherever Tyr was, he'd never forgive his human lover's suicide. That would be the greatest show of disrespect Dylan could make. After all, Tyr had lost his Pride, and carried on, and then, just recently, his wife.

Another thought washed over Hunt, turning him cold. _Tamerlane!_ He knew Tyr's son was alive, though his lover had yet to admit it aloud. The realization woke something in Dylan, a determination he'd thought dead and gone, with Tyr.

"I miss you, Tyr," he whispered, as exhausted sleep finally washed over him.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Tyr Anasazi growled low in his throat, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching his exhausted lover fighting sleep.

For the thousandth time, he cursed the alien who'd pulled him and Beka through the dimensional tunnel as the _Maru's_ hull had breached. True, they'd been saved from certain death, but existing in this half-world, unable to touch or communicate with those around them, was maddening.

It had at first appeared that they had remained on the _Maru._ They could see everything happening as clearly as if they were taking part in it. But it quickly became clear that things weren't as they seemed.

The heavily damaged freighter had returned to the _Andromeda_ , and he and Beka had waited eagerly for Dylan's arrival. When he'd boarded, they'd both moved forward to greet him, only to discover to their shock that he couldn't see or hear them.

And so the living nightmare had begun. He and Beka didn't seem to exist according to the normal laws of the universe. They no longer needed to sleep or eat, though they couldn't move through the decks and walls as the aliens had.

He and Captain Valentine spent their days trying to come up with a way to bridge the dimensions. They had determined the first day that they could access _Andromeda's_ computers, though they couldn't change any of the data, which meant they couldn't leave messages to let the crew know they were still alive.

Movement from Dylan caught his attention, and he turned to see the other man hugging a pillow tight. By the starlight, he caught the glint of tears.

"Ah, Dylan," he breathed, his chest tight with grief. He'd never planned to get so involved with the human, and hadn't expected Dylan to return the feelings so strongly.

"I miss you, Tyr," Hunt whispered, finally giving in to his exhaustion.

The words tore at the Nietzschean's control. He'd convinced himself earlier today that his nocturnal visits had to stop. Beka had found out about them, and had been livid, initiating a fight the likes of which he'd seldom experienced.

At first, he'd accused her of jealousy. She'd denied it, reminding him that Dylan was still in love with Sarah, and no female could compete with that. Then she'd gone on to tell him that as Dylan's friend, she was asking him to stop visiting Dylan during his sleep.

_Can't you see what it's doing to him?_ she'd pleaded. _If he could accept you were dead, he could grieve. But you're keeping him in the worst kind of limbo, and it's not fair, Tyr. More than that, it's dangerous and could kill him. Is that what you want?_

Her argument had merit, the Nietzschean had to admit. But seeing Dylan like this convinced him the visits were the lesser of two evils. He had kindly chosen not to remind her of her own time spent watching over Harper, who was suffering just as badly, if for differing reasons.

As he watched Dylan sleep, the familiar ache in his groin made him close his eyes. This time, when he shed his clothing, he admitted it was as much for himself as for Dylan's sake.

Slipping under the covers behind his lover, he wrapped an arm around the human's waist, gently twining their arms together. He groaned, feeling Dylan move back unconsciously into his embrace.

"Relax," he whispered, his lips brushing Dylan's neck. "Let me pleasure you."

Dylan lightly grabbed Tyr's hand, moving it downward. The Nietzschean took the hint, stroking gently over his lover's belly, then increasing his range until he brushed the coarse hair, and finally settling on the hardening cock. His lover moaned, body tensing with wanting.

Tyr took his time, making sure Dylan was comfortable. He alternated his strokes, first a bit harder and rougher, and then gentling the touch, keeping his lover on the brink, but not yet allowing him release.

"I'm still here, Dylan," he softly growled. "I haven't left you. I know you're still looking for us. Don't give up. We're still here, both of us."

Being in such close proximity fueled Tyr's desire for more contact, and he scooted back a bit, gently urging Dylan to roll onto his back. The Nietzschean swallowed hard, studying his lover. The lines of stress around Dylan's eyes and mouth spoke volumes, and Tyr regretted the pain his loss had caused.

He lay next to Hunt for several minutes, his hand wandering over the broad chest, occasionally stopping to play with the nipples. He wished he could feel Dylan's responses more clearly, but it felt like there was a layer of fabric between them, blocking touch.

Tyr's own body now screamed for release, and he groaned. He'd never admit this to Beka, but it did sometimes feel wrong, being with Dylan in this way, like he was taking advantage of his lover. But what he wouldn't share with her were the nights he'd sat here, invisible to Dylan, watching his lover pleasure himself while calling Tyr's name.

Closing his eyes, the Kodiak fought for some semblance of control before going any further. He'd learned the hard way that if he didn't take it slow and easy, Dylan would wake up. And when that happened, the tenuous contact between them shattered. The first time had left Tyr cursing and yelling in frustration, and though he tried to avoid it, it had happened again, when need outweighed control.

As a result, their lovemaking held a gentleness that Tyr hadn't thought possible between two alpha males. He tried not to analyze the change, telling himself that if and when he returned from this dimension, the old patterns would reassert themselves.

Watching Dylan's hand reach downward, Tyr knew it was time. Straddling his lover, he settled into position, beginning a gentle rocking of his hips. By keeping the pressure light, it prolonged their loving, and that was something Tyr hadn't been accustomed to either.

He leaned down, unable to resist kissing Dylan's sleep-parted lips, licking at them. Hunt responded with just the barest moan, opening his mouth as if inviting a lover to deepen a kiss.

It spurred Tyr on, and he couldn't help whispering, "You've totally undone me, Dylan. I never expected that a human male could have this effect on me. And yet here you are." He continued his thrusts. "I vowed that I would never again be enslaved by anyone, but you hold my heart prisoner, as surely as those in the past held my body. It is lucky for you that I know it's mutual. You are just as surely mine."

As if the words spurred him on, Dylan froze, shooting his seed between them. The Nietzschean wished he could taste his lover's essence, but in this strange half-life, he couldn't even feel it. After a few more thrusts, Tyr threw his head back with a roar as his own orgasm swept through him.

Once the aftershocks had passed, he shifted to lie next to Dylan, resting a hand over the other man's chest and tracing lazy patterns. He'd always enjoyed this time with his lover. It had surprised Dylan, he knew, finding out that his Nietzschean wasn't the gruff, callous, fuck-'em and leave kind of lover.

In their shared dimension, they usually fell asleep, one spooned against the other. However, in this place, where Tyr didn't require sleep, he was content to keep watch over Dylan, trying to soothe away any dreams that might disturb what little rest he allowed himself.

And since he couldn't exit the room until Dylan did, Tyr settled in to wait. He knew it wouldn't be long before his lover woke and began another day.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

For Dylan, the transition from sleeping to waking was abrupt, and he sat up, looking around in confusion. He was alone, as he had been every morning for the past six weeks.

_Tyr was here! I know he was, I could feel him._ His cheeks flushed as he felt the sticky evidence of his nocturnal activities. _That damned dream again!_

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he rubbed his hands over his face with a groan. "I'm losing it."

But a whisper in the back of his mind reassured him, and he heard a faint echo of Tyr's voice, urging him not to give up. In his exhausted state, he couldn't recall if it came from an actual conversation with the Nietzschean, or if he'd dreamed it.

All he knew for sure was that he couldn't give up his search, not while he still felt so strongly that Beka and Tyr were somehow still alive, and in reach of rescue.

"Hang on, Tyr," he whispered, watching his own reflection in the mirror. "I'm going to find you and bring you home. And that's a promise."

And with that, he stepped into the shower, preparing to start another day of endless searching.

 

 

~  fin  ~


End file.
